Moving on and out

Yesterday my friend Katherine drove up from where she lives in Gilbert and helped me pack. We got through the entire kitchen which was a big looming monster in front of me -- something I was dreading sorting through. I have a lot of kitchen stuff, but with Katherine's motivation; we got through it. Daniel's kitchen actually looks morbidly empty with all of my stuff gone. But maybe that's the way he likes things.

It helped having someone else there because I have been packing and unpacking for so long, the thought of packing more stuff just depresses me. In four months I will have had four different addresses. (My magazine publishers are going to be so irritated with me.) I am a Nomad -- only not by choice and that kind of sucks, but what are you going to do. Move on.

My sister says to look at this like an adventure and in a way, it kind of is. I can take a job anywhere (if I can actually find a company that will hire me). The sky's the limit.

Trying not to get my hopes up here but Katherine (who works in sales and makes very nice living) says there's an opening for an assistant at her company. Basically secretarial sort of work, but she thinks A) I could do it and B) it would be getting my foot in the door and hopefully eventually get me into sales where I would hopefully make a very nice living as well.

I'm not opposed to staying in Arizona. OK, I'm slightly opposed. I came here because Daniel came here and I thought we would be together. Now that we're not, I don't want to be in the same state as him (nothing against him as a person and not that I'd ever run into him -- we would live way too far away for that.) But it feels like Arizona was supposed to be an "us" thing not a "me" thing. I had great plans for the things we were going to do together in Arizona. Now that I have to adjust my plans from "us/we" to "me," I'd rather take my "me" plans to another state and do them alone without the ghost of Daniel and our past relationship haunting me.

I don't even know if that makes sense? And maybe leaving the state is paramount to running away. But running away worked for me when I ran away to California. Or did it? Because look where I am now. Same spot I was at when I ran to California.

Ultimately where I end up and where I go will depend on the job I land. I'm crossing my fingers that I find one soon.

On the precipice

It has been almost two months since I lost my job and for almost two months, my credit cards have been under severe lockdown. Think Confessions of a Shopaholic, minus the big block of ice. In my situation my credit cards have been frozen in a figurative block of ice.

Until today. Or tomorrow maybe. Or the next day.

You see, I'm contemplating using my Home Depot card. I know. What could possibly be so important that I absolutely need to buy it right now? And at Home Depot, no less.

I realized tonight that despite the fact that when I moved into my apartment, I bought two storage cabinets and a rolling cutter block island; I still don't have enough kitchen storage space. The kitchen in my apartment came outfitted with one cabinet approximately 1 1/2 feet tall anchored to the wall above my sink and two long thin drawers above two long thin cabinets (best for cookie sheets, not much else) on either side of the useless cabinet beneath the sink.

After my most recent shopping trip just this afternoon (yes, I'm still bargain grocery shopping like crazy); I realized my kitchen is bursting at the seems.

The main problem with my kitchen when you look at trying to add storage is the interior and exterior window placement. There is an interior window less than 50 inches wide that overlooks the sunroom. A marble countertop runs between the kitchen and the sunroom. The marble countertop has a lip that juts out 6 inches from the wall on either side of the window. The lip is approximately 30.5 inches from the floor. In my original search for kitchen storage cabinets, I had a very hard time finding a cabinet only 30 inches high to fit precisely beneath the marble lip and abut to the wall.

After walking to Wal-mart this evening hoping to contemplate purchasing a third storage cabinet only to discover the style I purchased earlier in the year has been discontinued, I decided to go on an internet hunt to see what's currently available. The reason I had originally decided to get another cabinet from Wal-mart is because I can enjoy 0% financing for one year using my Wal-mart card with a purchase of $299. I figured I could purchase the cabinet and other useful items from Wal-mart that I would need over the next year: toilet paper, paper towels, tampons, etc. And take a year to pay it off interest free. After perusing Wal-mart.com and confirming that my exact kitchen cabinets had indeed been discontinued, I turned next to Home Decorator's Collection Outlet Store (www.homedecoratorsoutlet.com). After carefully browsing the website, I discovered the most perfect cabinets imaginable. Maple/natural finish, 30 inches high, 25 inches wide, two shelves, glass doors, and a drawer. The best part? On sale $79.99 down from $179.99. Two cabinets would fit precisely beneath the 50-inch wide marble lip in either my sun room or kitchen.

The down side of finding the most perfect cabinets for my kitchen, is that they cost, well, really anything at all. Luckily, Home Decorators Collection also offers free financing: 0% interest for six months with a purchase of $299. Not as good as Wal-mart but free financing nonetheless. With a $300 purchase, I could have the cabinets paid off in 6 months if I paid $50 a month. This is not sounding too bad!

Until I browse some more on the web site and find a media center matching the bookshelf and table I already own. On sale $174.99 down from $349. Now I'm in turmoil.

The media center I currently own looks like it belongs in a college dorm. In fact, I probably purchased it in college. Or right after.

The moral dilemma is this: if I buy both cabinets and the matching media center I will have to pay $470. That's roughly $80 a month. In better financial times, this would be no problem. In a way, I'm sort of proud of the fact that I have yet to use a credit card since I lost my job. On the other hand, I really, really want those kitchen cabinets. And the media center would look really nice in my apartment. And maybe I'll be hired for a job some time soon. Very soon.

As it happens I did have some good news this morning. I got a call from a company I submitted my resume to for a proofreading position. I'm scheduled to take a proofreading test Monday at 10 a.m. I'm excited because I love to read and have a natural habit of proofreading anything I read. I think I'd be perfect for the job. I have no idea what the pay would be. So long as it's at what I'm currently making on unemployment (ideally more than what I'm currently making), I think it's a great opportunity. It's considered a freelance position in that it's contract - only lasts a few months.

As I wrestled with the idea of busting out my credit card for this one minor purchase, my dad suggested waiting until next week to see if there's a real possibility of a job. Good thought.

I think the big problem with me breaking the ice on my credit cards is that it could be a slippery slope after the first purchase. At any rate, I need some more time to decide. If I can wait that long...

In the neighborhood

One of the benefits of unemployment is an overabundance of free time. The problem with all this free time is that most people I know work. Luckily for me my dad arrived in town Saturday night. Like me, he is also unemployed.

Those that I know who work (nearly everyone I know) sometimes look at me with wonder and awe and ask me what I do with all my free time. My guess is they can't imagine what it would be like to not be working. Truthfully, most the time I'm at Daniel's. Looking for a job, writing, blogging, etc. While my dad has been in town, however, I've been enjoying sleeping in my own bed.

My dad and I spend our days riding bikes along the ocean, going to the coffee shop five blocks from my house (he pays), taking walks, reading and lounging.

Today while biking along our usual route we decided to venture to an unfamiliar part of Long Beach: Second Street. I've lived in Long Beach for five months now. Because of my hectic schedule while working at Aerospace Company X, I never had the time or energy to do much exploring around the neighborhood. Second Street is roughly three miles away from where I live. Long enough to make a round-trip walk slightly unrealistic; short enough to feel guilty for driving. (I won't even mention the parking situation in that area.)

My dad wanted to stop at Polly's, a coffee shop on Second famous for roasting a wide variety of coffee beans. For Valentine's Day he wanted to send my sister a pound of locally roasted coffee.

Today was the second time in my life that I've been to Second Street, but I rarely remember the first. It was after a wedding, before I had moved to California. My ex-friend has a friend that bartends at Lucille's. All I remember about that night is driving a long way to get to Long Beach and having to stand in line to go to a bar that seriously had like five people in it. I had not been impressed with Long Beach or Second Street that night.

Second Street looks a lot different during the day than it does at night. For one thing, my first impression was that Second Street is one bar right after the next. I was delighted to learn today that there is so much more. There were tons of restaurants with patrons lounging at sidewalk tables. There were coffee shops and pastry shops and creperies. There were brand name stores like Banana republic and non brand name fashion boutiques. There were nail and hair salons, high end food markets, and music stores. Best of all were the niche stores like the store that sells olive oil and its derivatives and Frosted the knock-off of Sprinkles cupcakes. All this in the first four blocks--the only blocks on Second Street where we wandered.

At Polly's we bought a pound of coffee for my sister, a cup of coffee for my dad and an Cappuccino Royale (espresso with steamed chocolate milk and whipped cream) for me. At the olive oil store my dad bought a bottle of California pressed olive oil. At Frosted we went slightly hog wild buying four cupcakes.

When we finally wheeled the bikes back into my apartment two and a half hours after we had set off on our journey, my dad looked at me and with a huge smile said, Today was fun. I laughed. That's because we spent money, I said.

I probably won't go back to Second Street all that often once my dad leaves town. Second Street is wonderful. Too wonderful in fact. I've never been a good window shopper, and right now window shopping is the only type of shopping I can afford to do. So instead of drooling over Frosted cupcakes from the other side of the window, I'll try to put their close proximity and their decadent, creamy frosting out of my mind. Until I find a job, that is!

Other people's money

Last night Daniel and I took a trip to Stater Brothers grocery store. We wanted to buy steak (they're supposedly famous for their meat selection), and I had perused their sale ad and found a bunch of items we commonly eat (bologna $.99, cornish game hen $.99 a pound, tater tots $2.99) on sale.

In the frozen food aisle we had a hard time locating the cornish game hen. It appeared as though they were sold out. About to give up, we rounded the corner and I spotted the hen on the bottom shelf of a freezer case at the end of the aisle. I left Daniel alone to pick out the fowl and made my way over to the dairy case. With heavy whipping cream and milk in hand, I was searching for american cheese when Daniel grabbed my arm and told me we were leaving. Hastily I began shoving the items I'd picked up back on the shelf. But the bologna is $.99 here. I really did say that to him. He responded by saying he didn't care about cheap bologna.

As we traversed the parking lot headed toward his truck I asked him if he'd seen his ex-girlfriend inside or something. I like the way you think, he said sarcastically before responding that the steak selection sucked and he couldn't stand how crowded the store was. Instead we went to Albertson's where the store was less crowded, the steak selection was better and Daniel didn't blink to pay full price anything.

It's his money. I understand he can do what he wants with his money, including paying $3 for bologna if he so chooses. But because of my finanical situation, it's hard for me to watch him pay full price for anything, when I know he could be getting it for less.

Goodbye, hello

I've been putting off picking up my dry cleaning, but unfortunately it's inching toward the disclaimer day where the dry cleaning company I use is no longer responsible for the clothes I dropped off. Right before I lost my job, I dropped off two items for cleaning and repair. I'm considering leaving the dress and coat there and saving $20. I have so many dresses and coats, will I really even notice two are missing? Goodbye clothes. Goodbye dry cleaning.

Back in October when my department began doing lay offs I got scared. The first lay off occurred the day before a scheduled hair appointment with Sarah at Bob Roy Salon in Manhattan Beach, who I've been faithfully seeing since I moved to California. I'd been highlighting my hair blonde for more years than I could remember, but that Wednesday when I sat in Sarah's chair; I solemnly asked her if she would dye my hair back to it's natural color. She eyed me suspiciously and asked if Daniel was behind my request. (Daniel always used to tell me I'd look better as my natural self and Sarah knew this.) Quite frankly, I would have rather have been dying my hair back to its natural color for Daniel than in anticipation of losing my job. I knew that very soon I wouldn't be able to afford the $250 I was shelling out every other month for blonde hair. That Wednesday when I went back to my roots, I decreased my bill by $80. At the time, I had no idea that when I eventually did lose my job I'd be in the pits of financial despair that I'm now in. I never pictured having to give up salon cuts and color. (That's what credit cards are for, right?) Goodbye, Sarah. (Hope to see you again some day.) Hello, Clairol.

Going without luxuries

Here's a list of things that I've either eliminated or mostly cut out of my life since I lost my job:

1. $4 lattes at Starbucks/other coffee shops. Occasionally I do still go to Starbucks, but this is only because I have two gift cards that I now use sparingly.
2. Baskin Robbins/Cold Stone Creamery/other ice cream shops. It's not like I frequented these stores on a regular basis, but I never thought twice about shelling out $5 for cup of ice cream before. Now I can't rationalize spending that kind of money when I can buy an entire half-gallon of Breyer's ice cream on sale at Von's for $1.99!
3. Using credit cards. I haven't touched one since I lost my job (other than to make a monthly payment). I spent my entire 20's living beyond my means and I'm not willing to do that anymore.
4. Manicures/pedicures/eyebrow wax. I used to get these services on a monthly basis if not more frequently. Grand total for a mani-pedi-wax at the cheapest Korean nail place I could find was $30-something without tip. I have to admit that this one kills me the most. I think I could give up Starbucks if I could keep mani-pedi-waxing on a regular basis. And I used to go to Starbucks almost every day!
5. The spa. Whoa is me. This one is tough to go without. I used to go to Burke Williams spa in Orange once a month for a facial or deep tissue massage. As I sit and write this, I have an uncomfortable knot in my lower back above my left glute muscle. The knot has been there all week. Sadly I can't afford to spend $180 to have Jason, my massage therapist, knead the knot out from my back. When I asked Daniel to use his elbow on it, he elbowed me so hard I thought he was going to push his elbow out through my stomach. Personally, I think he did this so I'd never again ask him for a massage...
6. Going out to eat (unless it's McDonald's dollar menu, someone else that is employed has offered to pay, or I have a giftcard). Same goes for going to movies and shopping of any kind other than grocery store shopping, Wal-mart, or the drug store.
7. Buying books. The impact of this has yet to hit me because over the last few years I've taken to buying books in mass quantities and have at least 30 books on my bookshelf that I have yet to read. Someday, however it will pain me to not be able to buy books. Yes, there's the library. But in an obsessive-compulsive sort of way, I refuse to read a book unless I own it. I like to be able to look back to my bookshelf and see what I've read. And sometimes you just need to refer to a passage in one of your books and you can't do that if you read library books unless you want to go down to the library to browse the book.
8. Cooking/baking. Food/baking items have become a luxury I just can't afford anymore. This makes me very bitter. I used to use baking as therapy. Upset? Stressed? Time to make some pies! A few hours later I would have four made-from-scratch pies sitting on my kitchen table. I know if I really wanted to make something Daniel would cart my Kitchen-aid mixer over to his place, and he'd  buy me the ingredients, and I could make pies or cookies or bars or anything. But Daniel doesn't like sweets, and part of the enjoyment of baking is seeing someone's reaction when they bite into what you've made. In the past, my coworkers were the joyful recipients of my baking adventures. Now that I lost my job, I have no one to feed. And that's rather sad in and of itself.

Ghosts of employment past

It's 4:20 a.m. and I am wide awake. Actually, I've been awake for half an hour. Considering I'm jobless and a self-proclaimed night owl, it's a major feat that I'm up right now.

Last night in Daniel's kitchen he pulled the coffee maker down from its hiding spot, the cupboard above his fridge. Let's make coffee, he said randomly and excitedly. Of the two of us, I am the coffee drinker -- not Daniel. Coffee sticks with him like garlic, so he normally stays away. I declined coffee at 6 p.m. because I knew it would have me up until 6 a.m., and with a smile on my face asked him where his unusual craving for coffee was coming from. I'm really excited for work tomorrow, he said.

On Friday, Daniel was given a job that puts him at 60 hours a week. For the past few months, overtime in his department was at a lackluster all time low, averaging four extra hours per week. Back when I was employed, my department averaged 50-hour weeks so I understood his excitement at the prospect of 60 hours. When Daniel works overtime, he makes over $100 an hour.

I don't tell him this, but it's hard for me not to be jealous that he gets to work 60-hour weeks. Hell, it's hard for me not to be jealous that he still has a job. This is something I haven't figured out yet, in terms of normality. Is it normal to be jealous of your boyfriend because he's employed?

But if I stop and think about it, I'm jealous of my old coworkers in my department that still have jobs. Not that I'd want to take their jobs from them so that I could be employed... Well... maybe I'd take one person's job and leave that person unemployed.

Thursday I plan to have lunch with the handful of people in my old department with whom Katherine (the other Admin gal that was let go) and I were close. You see, I really do miss these people. I spent 50 hours a week with them -- they were pretty much family considering I have no family out here in California. I laughed in front of them; I cried in front of them; I screwed up in front of them; I grew in front of them. To me it's jarring not to see them on a daily basis anymore. I've never, ever felt so haunted by the memory of a job or ex-coworkers. Then again, I've never, ever been let go or fired.

It's funny because when I speak to my old coworkers I feel like I'm still working there. Sort of like I'm a telephone consultant. Oh that meeting does not need to be covered, programming is essentially complete for that panel. Or, you should cover that meeting because it's really easy and the project supervisor comes off as a lion but is really a big teddy bear underneath. Or, there's no reason our department should be doing the work of that other department. What are they being paid to do anyway?

It's almost as though I was in an accident and I lost my arm, but I still feel like I have an arm. There was an accident (my boss is an idiot) and I lost my job. Yet when I talk to old coworkers it still feels like I have a job. I clearly still have a vested interest in the company that decided I was disposable. I have mixed emotions about that.

Last night after watching the Saints narrowly eke through football history onto the path for Superbowl stardom, Daniel and I went grocery shopping. He with his wallet, me with my grocery list and my coupons. We (he) bought $105 worth of food, saving $36 with the coupons and preferred card items we (he) bought.

Daniel's refrigerator normally contains Coors Light, bottled water, eggs, and condiments. If it's a big shopping week for him, sometimes his fridge is also stocked with cheese and hot dogs or bologna. Sometimes both processed meats.

Before we went shopping last night, we collaborated on the grocery list roughly planning out meals for the week. (Normally he is so not a planner. I'm not really either but he is so not a planner it drives me crazy at times. It's like I can't get him to commit to having hamburgers versus pizza for dinner that same night.) When we went shopping and saw other items not on our grocery list (pork chops, potstickers, more eggs), he didn't hesitate to drop them in the cart. (This is not how I grocery shop anymore when I'm shopping for myself.) Nervously I watched as he picked up an item that wasn't on sale -- like the pound of butter that cost twice as much as the store brand. I shook my head at him disapproving his butter choice. But I like this brand, he justified. Try this brand then, I suggested of Tillamook, which was still brand name but also on sale and less than the $5 pound of Land 'O Lakes butter. When I was employed, I was never like this. If I wanted $5 butter, damnit I'd buy $5 butter! Having lost my first job ever in my life, I'm pretty sure I'll never buy $5 butter again. And I'll be damned if Daniel does in my presence!

Really the reason I'm up is because Daniel left for work at 4 a.m. He handed me a cup of coffee as I lay in bed and then turned on the morning news for me. He left for the day and I settled into bed to watch the morning news. It's been awhile since I've done that. I stretched my arms overhead and briefly thought ... I should do yoga. Which is a hilarious thought because I don't own a yoga mat anymore (though Daniel has one) and I haven't done yoga in years. Then the thought occurred to me that many (if not most?) employed people don't drink coffee in bed while watching the morning news (at least I never did when I was employed). They don't wake up at 4 a.m. and do yoga (unless they are crazy exercise enthusiasts or extremely motivated -- neither of which I am). That's stuff for housewives. The self-employed. Those who telecommute. The unemployed.

Daniel will be home around 3 p.m. He lives in a gated community and without him calling the front gate to let me back in, I really can't leave. Staying at his place almost feels a bit like being imprisoned, but not in a bad way. I bring stuff to do. I have my manuscript, a bunch of magazines I've been unable to read, and a book. Daniel has cable, which is a plus. I find that while he's gone at work, the first thing I tend to do is clean. I make his bed, I hang up his towel if he discards it in the living room where he gets dressed in front of the TV so as not to disturb me by turning on the light in the bedroom. I unload or load the dishwasher and/or wash the dishes that aren't dishwasher friendly. I tidy the living room. I do some laundry.

At a cursory glance, it probably looks like I'm trying to impress him. Possibly, that's what he thinks! Really, though, I clean more out of guilt. Guilt because I am jobless and have tons of free time and he doesn't. Guilt because I am a guest in his house. Guilt because he feeds me most nights of the week during a time when for me money is so tight, I only buy $1 items at the grocery store and would probably otherwise starve.

The first meltdown

As I was saying, all things considered, I think I've been taking this unemployment thing in relative stride. I'm actually known to be a worrier and prone to anxiety. I also take things incredibly personally and although Daniel, who has been working in aerospace for 15 years, explained to me that as a contractor you can't take getting laid off personally (and he's right), the moment I heard I was getting laid off, it was hard for me to not take it personally. Then when I heard the reason I (along with another Admin gal) had been laid off, I was just plain pissed.

Because I've been cutting back, I really haven't been hanging out with anyone except Daniel. As luck would have it, my car needs a new clutch which will cost anywhere from $800 to $1600. That is certainly money I don't need to be spending right now. An ex-coworker contacted me Friday and asked if I wanted to get together this weekend. I knew Cody was aware of my unemployment status. In the past when dining out with Cody, he and I have either split the bill or alternated picking up the bill. The last time we went out we split the bill. But I paid our bar tab before we got to the table (4 drinks = $60 with tip) and then for the movie we went to after dinner. I probably shouldn't have assumed he'd pay for lunch, but I guess I really did. I was prepared to pay my half however, in the event he didn't offer to pick up the tab.

At lunch we gossiped about what's going on at Aerospace Company X and it felt good to hear that people in Cody's department were upset to learn that I and the other Admin gal were let go and that because we are no longer there, it's making parts of their job difficult to accomplish. Hearing that enforced what I knew to be true; that The Talking Head was an idiot and had made a very uninformed decision when eliminating two Admin positions and leaving one guy to do all the work.

At the end of the meal the waitress dropped off the bill - it was $30. Cody grabbed the check presenter (thank God!) and then proceeded to put cash inside and hand it over to me. (Damn.) I opened the check presenter to a $10 bill inside. Are you kidding? I blurted out before I could stop myself. No, that's all the cash I have. You're going to have to cover the rest, he said. Are you kidding? I repeated. Because surely he was just playing a joke. He couldn't expect me to slap down $30 for lunch. I'm unemployed. He shook his head in response to my second 'are you kidding?'. I'm f-ing unemployed, I said. I'll get you next time, he said with a shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like I hadn't bought the last time we'd been out. Like I had the money to pay for both of us! Gimme a break, he added. My girlfriend was just out for two weeks and I spent a lot of money while she was here. I was livid. How is that my problem? I asked.

With more anger than I've had in a long time, I hastily pulled the last $40 cash I had from my purse and put it in the check presenter removing the ten-dollar bill he'd put in. He could see rage in my eyes and mumbled something about needing to go to an ATM. There's one inside the restaurant, I practically spat. Then he offered to put the whole thing on his card and I could give him cash, but at this point I was so f-ing pissed by his insensitivity to my financial situation and his lack of planning and his utter and blatant abuse of our friendship that I didn't want his f-ing money and I didn't want him f-ing paying for anything. I could not believe he would meet me for lunch expecting me to cover his half. Not now. Not while I'm unemployed.

In the end, we walked home in complete silence. We happened by a Bank of America and he got cash and gave me $20. He tried giving me $40, but I was so angry and proud, I refused. Outside my apartment the meltdown began. Before I knew it I was standing on the sidewalk crying explaining to him as nicely as possible how I don't enjoy disputing $8 with a friend. Explaining to him as nicely as possible how I don't have money to buy cotton balls right now let alone pay $18 for lunch, let alone pick up his half of the bill. He understood to a degree. I don't think he understood that what he did was completely insensitive and idiotic. He did say it was completely unfair that I, of all people at Aerospace Company X, lost my job. And he was right about that.

When I got inside I continued crying over my financial woes and over the circumstances in which I lost my job. For the first time since I was laid off, I was visibly upset and I couldn't shake my mood. I texted my friend Clare and told her what happened. Isn't he the guy that used to have a crush on you? she asked. What a way to impress someone that at one time you were clamoring to date.

In the middle of my meltdown I called my mom, which is unusual for me because she and I are not particularly close. Normally my dad would be the first person I'd dial during a meltdown. That's a man for you, she said, not unsympathetically, when I described to her my lunch nightmare and my breakdown over the $8.

Later that night my dad called and I replayed the meltdown for him, too. Honey, your friend is an ass, he said. Everyone knows you don't meet someone at a restaurant without money to cover your half of the bill. He could have put it on his bank card. He blatantly used you.

Gone are the days when I could walk into a grocery store and buy a $4 pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream just because I wanted it. Unless I really need something at the grocery store (and one does someone really need something in these hostile economic times), I don't buy it unless it's under $2 or on sale. Gone are the days when I could go out to any restaurant and not even look at the prices or not even blink an eye to put my check card down and pick up the tab without looking at the bill, without needing to know how much money was in my checking account.

Maybe it's because Cody is young, he's 25, or maybe my dad's right and he is just an ass. (I don't personally believe it's my duty to point out to anyone that social norms dictate that you don't expect a friend who is unemployed to pick up your half of the bill while out for lunch.) Or maybe he just thinks like I did when I was 25. Just put it on a credit card. It's no big deal.

First (a few things)

First off, let me explain some things to you. I think I've been taking this whole unemployment thing in stride considering the great state of California is probably the worst place to be unemployed. Ever.

1. I knew I was getting laid off. I wasn't supposed to know, but I knew.

I used to work in Admin for Aerospace Company X who contracts with Aerospace Company Y and is working on a pretty major project in aerospace technology. It was a contract position. My contract was for a year. Or until work ran out, which could be less or more than a year. I had always been pulling for more.

Right before our three week mandatory shutdown for the holidays, my boss, The Talking Head, informed us in a meeting that the budget was looking good. (The budget had not been looking good since sometime back in October.) He estimated that everyone in our department would be able to keep their job until March. My department (of about 25 employees) glanced warily around the room at each other because The Talking Head has no idea what he's talking about. Ever. And that is a known fact within my department and other departments, too.

Oddly, I felt a sense of relief knowing my job would last until March. (A full year!!) I didn't know it then, but I should not have taken The Talking Head at his word. The day that we got back to work after three weeks off with no pay, my friend and coworker texted me and said, Did you hear there are going to be more lay offs? I figured I wasn't on the list if he was texting me. This was the third wave of lay offs since October and every time there had been a lay off I had been on the inside of the information. Every time I knew it was happening and I knew I wasn't on the list. I'm really sorry, he'd said. Rumor is that you are on the list. And I was.

2. I was in bed with my boyfriend when I found out.

Not that kind of 'in bed.' Daniel and I met at Aerospace Company X. We have been dating approaching a year now, I guess. Daniel had plans to stay with me for two weeks after we got back from the holiday shut down. Shift start time at Aerospace Company X for most employees is 5 a.m. I always got there at 4 a.m. Daniel usually arrived around 5 a.m., sometimes later than that. While Daniel would be staying with me, we decided to compromise and arrive at 4:30 because we were going to carpool. I was looking forward to being able to zip to work and back using the carpool lane. Though we'd been dating for months, this was the second time we'd carpooled. Normally we both just drove separately. Ohmigod, I'd said to Daniel when I read the text from my coworker. I'm getting laid off tomorrow. I looked at Daniel trying not cry, he's not exactly Mr. Emotional, but I was scared.

I'd never been laid off or fired from any job since I'd started working at the age of 18. Not ever! Any time I had left a job it had been of my own volition and I'd had another job lined up. Not this time. You're sure, he'd asked. You're sure you're getting laid off tomorrow? My coworker had told me it was rumor, but in my heart I knew it was for sure. Don't worry, Daniel promised. I'll hold your hand through this. We'll get through this together. We'll stay in. We'll cook at home. It will be OK. You'll find another job.

I put on a brave face for Daniel that night, and told him I knew I'd be OK. He was proud of me for being so calm and zen-like. Daniel has this philosophy that everything works out for a reason. I sorta have that philosophy, too. I just didn't think that going from making $1600 a week at Aerospace Company X to $475 on unemployment qualified within that philosophy.

3. It's been an adjustment.

I now rake in $1900 a month on unemployment, just over a quarter of what I used to make at Aerospace Company X. Despite the fact that my rent in the lovely state of California is $1200 for a one-bedroom apartment, I'd actually be OK living off of unemployment for awhile if I didn't have credit card payments to make. I don't have a car payment. I'm unemployed so I don't drive anywhere, thus I rarely put gas in my car. Before I was let go, I'd paid my car insurance in full. I had been trying to pay off my credit cards while bulking up my savings because I knew at some point my job would end. I just hadn't thought it would be that soon.

Normally my checking account hovered safely around $3,000. I actually always felt like I had more money than I knew what to do with which was why I didn't hesitate to buy whatever I wanted at the grocery store or pick up the dinner bill when dining someone I knew made less money than I did. Given that I was off work for three weeks with no pay, and it had been the holidays and I had been traveling and buying Christmas presents for everyone (because I could afford it this year!); by the time I got back to work, I had whittled my checking account down to the scary figure of $200.

I knew I was OK, though. I knew by the end of January that my checking account would be back up to the $3,000 mark. That was the plan anyway. The plan did not include getting laid off, for the record.

In the past few weeks, Daniel has been great. He really has. He always pays when we go out to eat (he always did that anyway), but now he buys me groceries. (He makes nearly double what I made at Aerospace Company X.) He gives me coupons. He offered to buy me toilet paper, paper towels, etc., when he takes a trip to Costco to stock up his own place. I got sick and he bought me throat lozenges and $25-a-bottle allergy decongestant. Truly, I don't know what I'd do without Daniel because I no longer spend any unnecessary money. I don't go out. Ever.

I've stopped drinking coffee which is really jarring to my system because I used to go to Starbucks at least five times a week and then to the local coffee shop every Saturday where I would sit and write. I can no longer afford a four-dollar horchata latte. I now drink coffee at home. With half and half Daniel paid for.

4. There's good stuff, too.

My credit cards now (for the first time ever) are completely off limits. I'm 30-years-old and finally learning to live within my means. Once I pay off my debt, I will never get into credit card debt again. I know this. Incidentally, my debt is not unmanageable. It's enough, though, that I don't have money to do anything and I need to withdraw from savings in order to pay my monthly COBRA payment and/or doctor visit co-payments and prescriptions.

I actually moved to California not to work in aerospace (that just sort of fell into my lap and I'm glad it did because for awhile I was making great money and I met Daniel) but because I wanted to be a writer. Before I moved to California, I had mostly finished my first draft of my first novel. I'd been meaning to finish it once I arrived. Inevitably life and having to make a living got in the way. Now I have all the time in the world to finish my novel.

My mom pointed out to me yesterday when I had my first meltdown since I lost my job, that my life, though jobless, is probably less stressful. I thought about it, and she's right. I no longer wake up at 3 a.m. and go to sleep at 7 p.m. I know it sounds horrific, but getting up that early five days a week is actually more horrific than it sounds. I now have tons of time for exercise. (I'm not saying I actually go running or use my three-year gym membership, I'm just saying I have more time for it.) I don't have the stress of dealing with California traffic and/or the commute. I don't have job stress because I don't have a job!

Through this, I believe, Daniel and I have gotten closer. Maybe that was bound to happen anyway over time, but he's extended himself more than he ever has to me, and I'm not sure that would have necessarily happened if I'd still had my job.

5. There's nothing out there.

I've been looking. I mean, I have to. It's required on the back of the form I have to fill out every two weeks and send in to unemployment in order for me to receive my check. I have to document what jobs I've applied for, at what company, with whom I contacted, and the results. (Uh, none or I wouldn't be filling out this form!)

It's not like I wouldn't look anyway. I don't enjoy having a depleted income. I don't enjoy living off the state (even though I've paid into this - oh have I paid into this.)

I had a phone interview for a technology sales company in Arizona. A company where my friend Kayla works and makes an enormous amount of money. Though I know I'd actually be a great saleswoman if given the opportunity; it's not what I really want to do. I want to write. At any rate, thanks to Kayla's diligence the opportunity arose; so I thought I'd give sales a shot. I attacked the interview process with more gusto than I normally attack anything. Maybe the woman I interviewed with could tell I was faking enthusiasm for the job. I don't know. I was almost relieved when I did not get invited for a face-to-face interview. It just didn't feel like the path I should be taking right now.

Other than my one phone interview, I have been perusing job sites and want ads more than I'd like. (I really just want to finish my novel.) I have found for someone with my experience (My resume reads like the starter section of a restaurant menu - lots of choices, cheap prices, arrives quickly - or in my case doesn't stay long in any one low-paying job) that the only jobs out there would be a pay cut by more than $20 an hour less than what I was making at Aerospace Company X. I would actually be making more staying on unemployment which is certifiably depressing. Aerospace jobs are the slimmest they've been since ... probably ever. To make what I was making at Aerospace Company X, apparently I need 6 years of experience or 4 years plus a Master's degree, at other aerospace companies. This is also certifiably depressing. It's not like what I was doing was Rocket Science.